


#1 Counter-Revolutionary

by zeldadestry



Category: The Boondocks (Comic Strip)
Genre: Community: 100_women, F/M, Future Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-01-09
Updated: 2006-01-09
Packaged: 2017-11-27 07:52:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/659583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zeldadestry/pseuds/zeldadestry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You don’t want to be nice to me?” she asks. She’s genuinely curious. She knows he likes her. She thinks that’s part of the reason he’s so hard on her. He’s confused because all the differences between them don’t change the way he feels.</p>
            </blockquote>





	#1 Counter-Revolutionary

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt 009, 'First', for 100_women Fanfic Challenge.

It’s Saturday afternoon and Jazmine is spreading her index cards, filled with carefully written notes, across the kitchen table. She has a paper due on Monday for her AP U.S. History course, and she wants to get a really good first draft finished in the next few hours so that all that will be left for tomorrow night is to polish it up.

Her parents are upstairs and she can hear the music of the Temptations drifting down. Sometimes her father sings along. He has a good voice. When she was little he used to sing for her at bedtime.

The knock at the back door startles her but, when she snaps her head up, it’s only Huey, sullen as always, glaring at her through the windowpane.

“Hey,” she says, as she opens the door.

“Hey.” There’s snow melting outside, and his boots are wet. He gestures to them. “Should I take ‘em off?”

“Yeah, you know how dad is.” She’s surprised that he asked. Usually he’d just tromp on in and get mud all over the floor, lecture her about something she’s done recently that offended his revolutionary sensibilities, and leave without letting her get a word in edge-wise. She would tell him to fuck off, except that she knows he’s unhappy, counting the days, literally, until high school ends.

He takes his shoes off and walks around the kitchen, opening cupboards like he lives there, offering a running commentary on the processed foods he finds. He says eating them will result in cancer, or weaken them so that they can’t fight back when the war finally breaks out, and she ignores him. She used to argue with him, but there’s no point to it. He doesn’t listen, and she’s heard it all before.

She just keeps on working and eventually he sits down beside her, which makes her nervous. She knows he’ll just eviscerate her research paper on the New Deal, telling her she read all the wrong books, and came to all the wrong conclusions, and doesn’t she know she’s perpetuating the lies? “I worked hard on this,” she tells him, her eyes fixed on the index card in her hand. “Don’t say anything about it. Just take your cranky ass back home if you’re going to be mean.”

“I can’t go home. Riley has friends over.”

“So? Some of Riley’s friends are actually nice, you know. Maybe you should try talking to them.”

“Riley’s friends are future wage slaves, just like he is. They’re fifteen years old and they’ve already bought into the system that will destroy them. Idiots.”

“Wow,” she says, putting the card down where it belongs in the sequence. “You’re really heartless, you know that Huey? At least Riley has friends.” Shit. She really didn’t mean to say that. As annoyed as she gets with him, as astonishingly pretentious and arrogant as he is sometimes, well, most of the time, she loves him.

“I have friends,” Huey says.

“I know,” she replies quickly, wanting to smooth it over.

“I have Caesar,” he says.

“Of course, he’s a good friend.” She waits, but he doesn’t say anything more. “And you have me.”

“And I have you,” he repeats, but he doesn’t look happy.

“I guess that’s not worth much,” she says.

He shakes his head. “Man, why do you always have to do that?”

“Do what?”

“Put yourself down! What’s going to happen to you? Are you just going to let people walk all over you?”

“No.”

“Stand up for yourself. You know how they say ‘stand tall or don’t stand at all’? It sounds like bullshit, but it’s the truth. Don’t you want to be strong?” He’s up from his chair, staring down at her, almost shouting.

She stands, too, makes her voice as strident as his. “I don’t want a lecture, Huey! You’re not my father.”

“No, Tom would never say anything his little angel didn’t want to hear.”

“Fuck you. I wasn’t even putting myself down, anyway. All I was saying is that I obviously don’t matter much to you.” She shoves him in the chest, and he grabs her wrists, holds them in his hands.

“Is that really what you think?”

He sounds almost sad and that makes her move closer. He drops her hands, surprised, but he doesn’t step away. “I don’t know,” she admits. “You’re not very nice to me most of the time. You know that, right?”

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I don’t know how to be any other way.” He raises his chin a little, regains his usual defiant expression. “I don’t want to be any other way.”

“You don’t want to be nice to me?” she asks. She’s genuinely curious. She knows he likes her. She thinks that’s part of the reason he’s so hard on her. He’s confused because all the differences between them don’t change the way he feels. For all the harshness in his voice and in his words when he speaks, his hands, when he finds an excuse to touch her, are always gentle. She might even hate him, if not for that. She believes his hands are the truth.

Like now, when he says, “You have an eyelash.” He reaches out his fingers and brushes them against the bone underneath her eye. She understands that this is the only way he knows to show her what she means to him. She leans in quickly, like he might disappear, dips her tongue into the corner of his mouth, which opens. His hands cup her face and she wraps her arms around his waist. His mouth is hot and in between parting to breathe and moving back together, she shivers. He runs his hands up and down her bare arms. “Are you cold?”

She smiles. “No.” She shimmies again. “It was just good. I got goose bumps, you know?”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“I never kissed anyone before,” Huey says, and he won’t look at her, he’s looking past her.

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

She’s surprised by that. It’s true that she’s never seen him with anyone, but he’s a secretive guy, so she just always assumed that, whatever he had going on, he kept it private. It’s kind of shocking, but she doesn’t want to make him uncomfortable by making a big deal about it. And the truth is that it makes her unreasonably happy that he’s admitted something personal. She brings her hand up to his throat, wraps her fingers around and presses her thumb against his pulse for a moment. “Did you like it?” He looks at her, then, makes a face like she’s stupid. “Right, well, you’re in real trouble now.”

“What do you mean?”

“Don’t you know?”

“Know what?”

“You don’t know?”

“Know what?” he says, louder.

“That sex is the number one counter-revolutionary force in this country, hell, in the whole world? You’ve just bought into the capitalist, imperialist system, my friend.”

“Shut up.”

“No, it’s a scientifically proven fact that people who have good sex spend significantly less time preparing for the revolution. Sometimes the sex is so good, they don’t give a shit about the revolution at all.”

“Blasphemy,” Huey says, and he is laughing at her. “It’s incredibly selfish and short-sighted to put one’s own needs above the revolution.”

“Be honest,” she says, running her hands down her torso. “Wouldn’t you be happier with your hands on this fine ass body?” He is laughing again and she hops on top of her chair, does a little victory dance.

“What are you doing?”

“I made Huey laugh, I made Huey laugh,” she sing-songs.

“You’re crazy,” he says, offering his hands up to her. “Get down from there before you fall.”

She takes his hands in hers and jumps down from the chair. They stand there for a moment and Jazmine watches him, but he’s looking at the floor again. “Huey,” she says, holding his hands tighter, and he raises his head. When she leans in towards him, he follows.


End file.
